No, You Can't
by Cainwen the Warrior
Summary: A young mouse named Cainwen never dreamed she would end up helping Martin the Warrior. But she did, and Tsarmina doesn't like her family much....
1. Prologue

**No, you can't.**

**Prologue**

A/N: All right, I'm writing this because a friend told me to. This has little bearing on the story, but stick with me, it gets better. 

          This part of the story takes place while Lord Verduga is ruling. This part of the story takes place in three different times, so don't get confused.

          Cainwen was eight years old when her mother died of a fever. She lived with her father, though she often spent time with the other woodlanders.

          Then Lord Greeneyes got sick, and Tsarmina took over. Cainwen's father went with the rebellion, and was killed. When Cainwen heard of her father's death, she went for a walk. She was grieving for her father when she fell into a ditch. Several woodlanders saw her fall, including Bella of Brockhall. No one went to see if she was all right, because at the bottom of the ditch were huge thorn bushes, and anyone who fell in there was impaled and dead as a doornail. They mourned for all of those who had died that day, including Cainwen.

          But not Cainwen. She was alive. The thorn bushes had died, and left a soft grass in their place.

          When Cainwen came to, she could not remember anything. She didn't remember that her parents were dead, or her name. The only thing she knew now was that there was a bump in her head and that she was sore.

           She climbed out of the ditch and headed for her house. How she remembered where it was or that it was hers is anybody's guess. But she went home, and stayed there for a year, not knowing who she was, or where she was. 

          That changed when a year of so after that fateful day, an old mouse came to Cainwen's house. Cainwen had retained her manners after her fall, so she took in the mouse and feed her.

          "Thank you, Cainwen, my child." Said the old mouse.

          " What did you call me?" asked Cainwen for she did not know her name.

          " Don't you know your name, young one? It's Cainwen. Your parents are dead, and you live in Mossflower."

          That was the last thing the old mouse said, for she died moments afterward.

          Now Cainwen knew who she was. From other travelers she had learned that Tsarmina was ruling. But knowing who she was had no bearing on her life, for travelers had stopped passing her way on the edges of Mossflower. So she carried on as normal, taking care of herself and living alone.


	2. 1. Meeting

"No, You Can't" 

**First Chapter**

A/N:** Hi Peoples! Thanks for the reviews. I'm new to this place and never imagined that I'd get a review for a prologue! All right now, I can get on with the story. Just a few warnings that I forgot to put in before. If you don't know the story of _Mossflower and __Martin the Warrior pretty darn well, go and read them before you read this, or it won't make any sense to you in about 1/3 of the story. Plus if you're one of those people who don't like fighting, action, or blood (in which case I don't know why you're a fan of the __Redwall books in the first place) I really don't recommend reading any of my stories. Thanks, and now on with the tale! [Ooppps, I forgot. "Cainwen" is pronounced like this- Cane when, but don't say the h in when.]_**

          Some time later, (for Cainwen really didn't keep track of time. Why should she? She often went traveling with creatures that stopped at her house. She foraged for what she needed. She didn't need to know when to plant. And besides, time would go on whether she kept track of it or not) a band of mice dressed in habits walked by her house. She grabbed a small bag, which contained all of her belongings and joined the end of the group. 

"Where are you going?" she inquired.

" To where ever we can find a home," replied a young mouse. " Wanna come with us?"

" That sounds wonderful," said Cainwen, always ready to find a way to leave her home, which was a place where the only memories she had were painful.

          Cainwen trailed along at the end of the group, where she altered her appearance. She kept the same loose, pale blue dress that she wearing on, but she put on her lilac headscarf and a large creamy yellow apron, which covered almost all of her dress. She always wore a headscarf when she went traveling, to hide a rather large scar, the mark she received when she fell into the ditch.

          About a half-hour later, two squirrels escorted the mice that Cainwen was traveling with to a large underground mansion. The leader of the group recognized the badger that greeted them inside immediately. So did Cainwen. She knew many of the creatures from watching through the bushes as she collected berries.  She watched as the badger called Bella, greeted the elderly mouse warmly, calling her Abbess Germaine.

          After greeting her old friend Bella turned to the mice that stood before her. She welcomed them and then showed them where they could put their belongings. She watched as they passed her into one of the dormitories. Suddenly she stopped one of them, the last to go in, who was not dressed in a habit.

" Cainwen?! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be dead!!!!!!"

Cainwen gave Bella an exasperated look. She was tired of people telling her she was supposed to be dead.

" It's nice to see you, Miss Bella. As you can see, I am quite alive and have been so all of my life," she said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. All of the Loamhedge mice turned to look at her. Cainwen knew that soon everyone would know about the fact that she was supposed to be dead. 

          It was a few days later when Cainwen was at diner when she met Martin. She was sitting next to him, and although she knew that a Martin the Warrior was at Brockhall, she didn't know that she was sitting next to him. She hadn't spoken to anyone since she spoke to Bella and she intended to keep it that way. But she need to get some more soup and it was on the other side of the mouse she was sitting next to.

" Excuse me," she said quietly, tapping him on the shoulder. " Could you pass me that soup?"

          Martin picked up the soup bowl and passed it to Cainwen. It was then that they met for the first time.

                Martin gazed at the mouse that sat next to him. She appeared to be about his age, and she was strangely beautiful. Her fur was a mahogany color with hints of golden brown, and silky. She was thin, and her face was calm. But it was her eyes that caught his attention. They were a little bigger than most, surrounded by long lashes. The color of them was the strangest part. They were a blue that was streaked with gray and they sparkled silvery in the candle flame. They were the kind of eyes that made you feel calm, but gave you the feeling that they would change colors if she changed moods.

          Cainwen looked at the mouse that was sitting next to him. He appeared to be about he same age as she. But Cainwen could tell that he had been through great hardship, much like she had.

          That night, those two mice talked of many things but never once asked each other about their history. Neither wanted to talk about it.


	3. 2 True Colors

No You Can't Chapter 2- True Colors  
  
A/N: Hi! Sorry to not have posted this sooner. Anyway, here you are. I skipped a bit, so here's your basic layout. Martin has been asked to go to Salamandastron. Cainwen has been hiding in the kitchens for most of the time, and talks only to Martin and those on cooking duty. She's walking with Martin to the edge of the woods to see him off. Here we go!  
  
Cainwen had the strangest felling that they were being watched as she walked with Martin to the edge of Mossflower. Gonff, Columbine, and Dinny were walking up ahead.  
  
"Where are you heading to?" asked Cainwen, who was gathering various plants in a basket.  
  
Martin looked at her from the corner of his eye. He just couldn't get over those eyes. They kept changing. No longer the usual blue-gray, they appeared to be pure, bright, liquid blue. How could any beast forget her was beyond him.  
  
"We're going to seek Salamandastron to find Bella's Father, Boar the Fighter." "How long will you be gone?" "I don't know Cainwen, the journey is long and dangerous."  
  
Tears shone in Cainwen's eyes and she turned away, not wanting Martin to see how worried she was for him. Martin stopped and turned Cainwen towards him, and brushed away the single tear that was trickling down her face.  
  
"I swear on my sword, I will return and free Mossflower from Tsarmina."  
  
Martin quickly turned away, and hurried off to join Gonff and Dinny, because he didn't want Cainwen to see the tears that were welling up in his eyes.  
  
************** A/N: All right a little more explaining. I'm not gonna change this part of the story.. Much. Martin and Co. find Log-a-log, get trapped by toads, Boar dies, the Bloodwake is renamed the Wuddship, and they all come back. Cainwen tries to keep her mind off Martin, and sticks to the kitchens.  
  
Here's an excerpt of Cainwen's diary while Martin was away. She calls it Lieh. Dear Lieh, I'm so worried about Martin. Has he reached Salamandastron? Is he safe? I wish there was someone for me to convey my fears to. I'm so jealous of Columbine. She has all her Loamhedge friends to talk to about Gonff. I have no one.  
  
  
  
A/N: Martin has returned! Everyone rejoices. Here is another excerpt from Cainwen's diary. "Dear Lieh, I'm so very happy. Martin has returned safely. He came back by ship and scared all of us to death. Everyone went on the ship, except me. I have to go and serve lunch. Everyone is still hungry from yesterday's battle. "  
  
Cainwen got up from her corner niche and rushed off to the kitchens. She picked up a large deeper'n'ever pie and rushed off to place it on the table.  
  
When Cainwen got to the hall, she searched around for Martin, knowing that deeper'n'ever pie was his favorite. She found him and walked over. She reached over him to put the pie down, and bumped into Martin, knocking his long cloak off.  
  
Cainwen gave a small gasp. Beneath the cloak, there was a filthy, bloody bandage on Martin's leg. Martin hurriedly covered it with his cloak, hoping that no one had noticed.  
  
Cainwen raced back into the dormitories, a thousand thoughts tearing through her mind. Now Cainwen understood why on the hottest of summer days, Martin wore a long cloak. Why he was last to leave a room and first to arrive. She devised a plan to take care of that wound, even if it meant resorting to trickery.  
  
Cainwen packed a small satchel with any herbs she could find in Bella's herbal store. She hid the satchel and two flasks of water under her large apron.  
  
She raced back to the hall, and sure enough, sitting all alone at the big table, was Martin, scouring over a map of Mossflower. Cainwen ran in and startled Martin.  
  
"Martin, come with me. I'm going to help you." "Help me with what? I have the next battle all laid out and the flooding will be no problem."  
  
Cainwen was very impatient. "I'm gonna help you with that wound you've been hiding! What in heaven's name were you trying to accomplish?!"  
  
Martin was startled by Cainwen's outburst. Here was the mouse who knew next to nothing about herself, and yet she knew what he was hiding. Not only that, but she had almost shouted at him. Cainwen rarely ever spoke, let alone above a whisper.  
  
Cainwen was not done with him. She took advantage of Martin's silence.  
  
"You can follow me on your own two feet, or I can drag you by that overly long cloak. The choice is yours."  
  
Martin remained silent, but rose, wincing as he put pressure on his leg. He figured that he had nothing to lose following her.  
  
Cainwen started off towards the store rooms, but Martin held her back.  
  
"I thought you said you going to help me. The infirmary's the other way."  
  
"And I thought, judging by the way you were hiding it that you didn't want anybeast to know about it. I found a secret room that nobeast knows about. I'm taking you there. I think you're very foolish to not tell anybeast about. What's to be gained by hiding it? A dead hero is no use to us. You'd fall in battle; you can barely walk. And even if you survived battle, you'd probably die of infection. I won't tell, but you should, you, you, you idiot!"  
  
Martin kept his silence. Cainwen was obviously too angry to be reasoned with, and he didn't want to rouse all of Brockhall.  
  
Cainwen led him through winding rows of shelves, all the time leading downward. Finally, they came to a solid wall. It was so dark that Martin could barely see her in front of him.  
  
"Close your eyes," she snapped at him  
  
Martin closed his eyes, though he saw no reason to, for he couldn't see anything anyway.  
  
There was a low rumble, and Martin was yanked forward. There was another low rumble, and muffled thump.  
  
"Open your eyes," said Cainwen." Go sit on that bed over there. Oh, and take off that ridiculous cloak; you're making me hot."  
  
Martin found himself in a spacious chamber, which looked like a bedroom. It had no corners; it was circular. Against one part of the wall was a bed. Cut into the reddish sandstone walls were shelves. On one of the shelves stood a pitcher and two bowls.  
  
Martin limped over to the bed and took of his cloak. His short tunic didn't cover the filthy bandage on his right leg.  
  
"Where in the name of fur and feathers did you get those bandages? They're filthy!"  
  
"I got them out the rags in one of the closets" said Martin, blushing under Cainwen's furious stare.  
  
Cainwen place a paw on Martin's forehead. Martin relaxed slightly as her cool paw brushed over his hot head.  
  
"It's a wonder you haven't collapsed with fever," said Cainwen as she pulled out her satchel and the two flasks of water from under her apron. Martin eyes widened. She turned her back on Martin and poured one of the flasks into the pitcher. The other's contents went into the first bowl. Then she pulled out a large wad of bandages and clean cloths.  
  
"What are you doing with all that?"  
  
"For an intelligent warrior, you sure ask some obvious questions. The cloths and the water are to clean your wound, the herbs are to make a poultice, and the bandages are to bind it with. Really!"  
  
Cainwen dropped to her knees and began to take of the makeshift dressing. Martin grimaced as it pulled free.  
  
Cainwen gasped. Martin's wound was worse than she could have ever imagined. It ran from his hip to his knee. It was flecked with rust and dirt. Blood trickled down his leg and his fur was matted with dried blood.  
  
"Ow, ouch! Hey, I thought you were going to heal it, not scrub it down to the bone!"  
  
Martin's remark made Cainwen only scrub harder. Martin clenched his teeth as the pain increased. Now he was sure she was mad. Totally, completely, beyond-a-doubt insane.  
  
"I am, but if it gets infected, it'll be useless. Now stay still! Honestly, you're worse than a Dibbun!" said Cainwen as she poured some water over it to get rid of the rust and grime.  
  
"Now, I can assure you that this will hurt even more, so keep still!"  
  
Cainwen began to apply a thick green paste to Martin's gash.  
  
"Hey, hey, ow! What is that stuff?!"  
  
Cainwen sighed. "It's medicine. Now stay still or I have to apply it twice."  
  
Martin stayed as still as he could, but it was difficult. The herb poultice burned like a cold fire, sending shooting, shuddering pain throughout his body. He had been healed many times, by many healers, but none had ever acted or made potions like Cainwen's. Cainwen bound the deep cut tightly, then stood and backed away. She turned away and in a moment produced a goblet of some repulsive green-brown liquid.  
  
Martin didn't like the looks of it and was starting to feel that he had had enough from Cainwen.  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"This is medicine for the pain and fever," she said. "You are going to drink it. NOW!"  
  
"I don't think so. But thank you anyway."  
  
Cainwen placed the goblet on a shelf near by and stood with her paws on her hips, her face a cold, feelingless mask.  
  
"You are going to take that, but whether it's on your own or I force it down you is another matter."  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
Martin drew his sword and pointed it at Cainwen.  
  
"I'm not going to take one drop of it, so you can just dump that revolting liquid on the floor," commanded Martin, glaring at Cainwen.  
  
Cainwen drew a long dagger from underneath her apron. She pointed it at Martin and assumed a fighting stance, her eyes burning fiercely.  
  
"You keep a lot of stuff under that apron of yours, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, it really comes in handy when dealing with warriors who are unceasingly stubborn, fight to the death, and are sometimes singularly foolish. Now take that medicine," said Cainwen, grounding out the last phrase through clenched teeth.  
  
"Why? I'm much stronger, and I have a blade that slices through anvils like butter. While on the other hand, you only have that overly long kitchen knife, which I doubt you even know how to use."  
  
"Ha! Foolish Martin!"  
  
Cainwen was upon him in a flash! Before Martin knew what had hit him, Cainwen had knocked the sword from his paw, and had him down on the floor, her dagger point at his throat. The sword landed just out of his reach.  
  
"Now, do you still think that you'd be able to overcome me?" said Cainwen, her mad stare boring into him. "And even if you were able to overcome me, you don't know the way out of the room."  
  
Martin's eyes shot around the room. There was no visible exit. Now he understood why she had made him close his eyes.  
  
"I'll also have you know that while you were gone, beside learning some new healing techniques from Columbine-"  
  
"Columbine?! I really must have a word with her," said Martin, trying to sound calm, but his eyes were riveted to the blade's point, which hovered just above his throat.  
  
"Ahem! I took some fighting lessons from Amber and Skipper."  
  
Now Martin was nervous. If she had taken lessons from those two, she could definitely kill him, no doubt about it. And he was very vulnerable with his leg injured. But Martin was never one to give in without a fight. He began to twist and turn, avoiding the dagger point.  
  
He gained the upper paw for a moment, nearly knocking over a lantern in the process, but Cainwen quickly rolled over on top of him and place her blade lightly on Martin's pulsing throat.  
  
Cainwen panted. Despite his horrific injury, Martin could sure put up a good fight.  
  
"Now I'm gonna change my offer a little. You can leave this room with one wound, or a dozen. But that potion is mandatory. Decide. NOW!!!!"  
  
Martin glanced at the dagger, then at Cainwen's eyes. They were no longer her normal pale dusky blue and gray, but now they were a cold, hard, glinting gray, like her keen blade. There was no mercy or pity in them; only a dangerous and imperative stare. Martin collapsed under her stare. There was something about those eyes that could make him do something, even when he didn't want to; they made him forget himself.  
  
"Alright, you win."  
  
"Finally, you've come to your senses. Get on the bed."  
  
Martin scrabbled onto the bed as soon as Cainwen released him. He took the goblet and gulped it down. He gagged and spluttered as the rancid liquid ran down his throat. It felt like swallowing a white-hot knife.  
  
" Phut, ugh, what is this stuff?!"  
  
"That's for me to know, and you not to find out. Sleepy yet?"  
  
"Sleepy? Why should I feel tired? It's the middle of the afternoon."  
  
Cainwen looked skywards, seeking patience. He still didn't get it.  
  
"Because I put a sleeping drug in there, of course."  
  
"YOU WHAT?!" cried Martin in utter disbelief. "Where did you learn to make sleeping drugs?"  
  
"From an old squirrel who stopped at my house one time. Comes in handy. Tired yet?"  
  
Martin was beginning to feel drowsy. A black mist swam before his eyes and gathered at the edges of his brain. His eyelids and limbs began to feel leaden.  
  
But Martin was a fighter, and never one to give up that easily (except, of course, when he looked into Cainwen's eyes, but that's a different matter altogether). He tried to fight the mist, which was beginning to thicken. Despite his efforts, his limbs became heavier and heavier; his eyelids began to drop.  
  
"Martin, lay down now, or you'll hit your head."  
  
Martin wouldn't lie down. And Cainwen's eyes had no power over him; his eyes were closed.  
  
"Oh, and Martin, I didn't really take lesson's from Amber and Skipper, but I could kill you anyway. I'm actually a Warrioress, you see."  
  
Finally sleep overwhelmed him and he fell backwards and cracked his head on the wall. A thin trickle of blood ran down through his fur at the site of impact.  
  
"I told him he'd hit his head."  
  
Cainwen picked up her herbs and bandages and went to work again.  
  
************  
  
In his sleep Martin felt a sharp pain on the back of his skull, followed by a tight, constrained feeling. Then the pain was gone. He relaxed and felt everything that had happened drift lazily from his mind. Martin was dreaming.  
  
In his dream, Martin stood in a vast white expanse. He didn't seem to be anywhere at all. Them the white nothingness melted in to Brockhall. Boar the Fighter stood before him, a silver aura surrounding him.  
  
"Boar, what are y-"  
  
Boar stared at Martin.  
  
"A warrior who deceives his friends is not a friend, but a traitor."  
  
"Boar, what in the name-"  
  
But Boar was gone, and Cainwen stood in front of him. Her eyes were the same cold, glinting gray.  
  
"You are foolish to hide what is not your fault."  
  
"Cainwen-"  
  
But Cainwen was not alone now. His father and Boar stood with her.  
  
"Tell of what you hide, Martin," they said in unison.  
  
Suddenly Bella stepped up from behind the trio.  
  
"Martin, what are you hiding?"  
  
"Bella, I-"  
  
All of a sudden, everyone from Brockhall and up north surrounded Martin. Martin's legs gave way under their burning stare.  
  
"What are you hiding, Martin?" they said, they're voices reverberating, like some gigantic bell ringing it's death toll.  
  
Abruptly, Brockhall melted into Mossflower and Martin found himself up against the rat that had hurt his leg. Martin reached for his sword, but all he could find was Cainwen's dagger. He fought with all his might, but he couldn't stop stumbling. The rat scored two hits with his rusty cutlass, once on his head and again on his leg.  
  
Out of the blue, a soft, urgent voice called to him.  
  
"Martin! Martin! Wake up! Martin!"  
  
Martin felt a sharp slap on his face. The rat faded and his world became black. His eyes snapped open, and stared into the worried eyes of Cainwen.  
  
"Phew, you had me worried. You were flailing around like you were fighting a rat! What in the world were you dreaming about?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing. It must have that sleeping potion."  
  
Cainwen cast a suspicious glance in Martin's direction. She had used that potion many a time, but that had never happened before.  
  
"Well, have some water, then," said Cainwen bringing out a goblet and another flask of water from under her apron.  
  
Martin stared at her apron. Despite the fact that she had taken two reasonably bulky objects from under her apron, the was no difference in it's appearance. Martin decided that her apron must be one big pocket, or many small pockets. Either way, it made him wonder just how much she could carry under there. Finally he tore his eyes from the apron.  
  
"Why should I trust anything you give me to be what it seems?"  
  
"For the same reason you trusted me when you closed your eyes and I trust you to come to your senses. Look, I'll drink half the water from the goblet and you drink from the flask. Deal?"  
  
"Alright," agreed Martin. "You first."  
  
Cainwen poured the water and drank deeply. Martin watched closely as she passed him the flask. She still looked wide awake, so he took a sip of the cool, clear water. It tasted wonderful after Cainwen's potions, so he drank the rest.  
  
Martin sighed and ran a paw over his head. His paw stopped abruptly at the bandage. "What's this?" his asked, one eyebrow raised.  
  
"It's a bandage of course," answered Cainwen. "What'd you think it was?"  
  
"I thought you said that I could leave with one cut if I gave up."  
  
"I did, but I also told you l to lie down before you hit your head, remember? But, you didn't lie down and you bumped your head. See? There's the blood on the wall."  
  
Martin turned around and looked at the wall. Standing out against the rose colored stones was a dark red blotch. Martin felt the back of his head, where the linen strips were stiff with dried blood.  
  
"Well, how'm I supposed to hide this?"  
  
"You could tell."  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh fine. Put up your hood on this stupid cloak!" she cried ill temperedly as she threw his cloak at him.  
  
Martin caught the cloak deftly and put it on, pulling the hood over his head.  
  
"Close your eyes."  
  
A/N: I am aware that warrioress is not a real word, but it is now! It will be explained later. 


	4. 3 Secrets

No, You Can't Chapter 3: Secrets  
  
Martin sat at supper, pushing his stew and pastie around his plate, sometimes taking a mouthful when someone looked at him, but mostly he just stared at it. He avoided Cainwen's livid gaze. Neither of them had spoken since leaving the room, as Cainwen was still seething from their battle and Martin didn't want to release her fury in the middle of dinner.  
  
Cainwen stared across at Martin. She ate automatically, not caring what was on her plate. What an idiot, she thought. Suddenly she tore her eyes from Martin to gape at her plate and drank her October Ale in one swallow. How did she get Hotroot soup on her plate?!  
  
Slowly, Dibbuns started to drift away from the table with parents and siblings. Soon, only Cainwen and Martin were left at the table. It was very late when Cainwen finally rose and after shooting one last furious look at Martin headed towards the dormitory.  
  
Martin remained at the table, musing and fiddling with a spoon that had been left on the table. Gradually his eyelids drooped and his head fell into his arms on the table.  
  
A/N: And Cainwen had nothing to do with this, thank you!  
  
Martin was still in Brockhall, and Boar stood before him again. But this time he looked enraged.  
  
"How many times do I need to tell you Martin?! I've told you, Cainwen's told you. Do I have to come out of Dark Forest just to get you to listen?" shouted Boar.  
  
Martin screamed. He got up and limped as quickly as he could towards Bella's study. "Bella! Bella, I need to talk to you!" Martin shouted as he pounded on the oak doors of Bella's study.  
  
Bella appeared at the door, looking drowsy and startled. She rubbed sleep from her eyes as she opened the door wider.  
  
"Martin, what's going on? What are you screaming for?"  
  
"Bella, I need to tell you something. Is Cainwen still here? She knows more about it than I do," Martin said rapidly.  
  
"Martin, I think you'd better come in. What's going on? You've been acting so oddly lately. Then you and Cainwen disappear for the whole afternoon and, well that's not so unusual for Cainwen, but what's the matter? You look like you've just seen a ghost."  
  
"If I have anything to do with anything, he will pretty soon if he doesn't hurry up and start talking."  
  
"Cainwen!"  
  
Martin and Bella whirled around to see Cainwen standing in the doorway, arms crossed and starting accusingly at Martin.  
  
Cainwen strode purposely forward, her nightgown billowing out behind her. Martin watched speechlessly as she walked forward and stood with her arms crossed facing Martin. Her footpaw tapped with exasperation against the carpeted floor of the study.  
  
"I was wondering when my message would sink through that battle hardened skull of yours," Cainwen said, tapping none too gently on his head. She turned quickly to Bella. "Pardon my interruption, Miss Bella. I had a feeling this stubborn warrior would finally come to you tonight, so I decided to see if he had finally come round."  
  
Bella looked from Martin to Cainwen in bewilderment. She shook her striped muzzle, baffled by this sudden change of character in each of the mice who stood before her.  
  
"I think that you had better start over again, both of you. WHAT IS GOING ON?!" Bella had a hard keeping her voice down, so as not to waken all of Brockhall. She looked from on to the other slowly. "Martin? Cainwen?"  
  
Martin looked at Cainwen meaningfully. Cainwen shook her head resolutely.  
  
"Uh-uh. I didn't start this thing, you did. I only came into play today. Don't be looking at me."  
  
Martin sighed wearily. "Alright then. This is what happened."  
  
******** About an hour later, Martin and Cainwen finished their narrative and sat, waiting for Bella's decision. They did not have to wait long. The wise Badger had many season's sense on her head.  
  
"Martin, I agree with Cainwen. You shouldn't have tried to hide a wound like that," she said pointing to the gash on his leg. " You should have gone straight to the Infirmary. We are completely safe at Brockhall, we can wait. We have supplies to last a long time. Tsarmina has an army to feed and not one among that load of rabble can forage or farm. Cainwen, I do not approve of you bullying Martin or anyone into doing anything they don't want to do, even if it is for their own good," she paused to look directly at Martin. "I realize that your feelings can override your judgement and I will assume that that is what happened, Cainwen. Martin, I think that you should go to the Infirmary. Cainwen, would you mind leading him there? I think that it's time we all were abed."  
  
Bella gave a huge yawn as Cainwen rose from the ottoman that she had been sitting on and walked over to Martin. Offering her paw she began to pull Martin to his feet.  
  
"Come on, Warrior, it's time that we got you to the Infirmary and bed," Cainwen said sounding playful and trying to stifle a yawn at the same time. "Goodnight, Miss Bella."  
  
"Goodnight, Cainwen, Martin."  
  
Martin leaned heavily on Cainwen as they left Bella's study. They walked at a sleepy pace down the dim, torch lit corridor toward the Infirmary. Both heads drooped with drowsiness. The firelight from the torches in their sconces flickered lazily, shinning off the duo pair of half closed eyes, one pair a slowly swirling blue-grey, the other, soft grey, hardened through pain.  
  
Breaking the peaceful silence, a small squirrel ran out of the shadows, running circles around the weary pair, pointing at Cainwen and shouting," Dead beast, Dead beast!"  
  
Suddenly the Dibbun shot off, causing Martin to stumble, pulling Cainwen's kerchief off in the act. For a split second he saw a flash of dark crimson before he was pulled swiftly into a small recess he stood leaning against the wall and panting. Through the darkness he saw Cainwen hurriedly trying to put her headscarf back on.  
  
"Whoa, what was that?" gasped Martin.  
  
"A little squirrel who needs a good lesson in manners."  
  
"No, not that. What's on your head?"  
  
"A headscarf, silly."  
  
"Cainwen, you're avoiding answering. What was that?"  
  
"That's my own business," Cainwen snapped bad-temperedly. " When I want you to know you'll know, which will be never!"  
  
Martin starred hard at Cainwen. Through the dimness, it seemed to him that her face was pained, worried, and concealing.  
  
"Cainwen, what was that?" Martin demanded to know in a hard voice. "You found out my secret, so I'm not going to rest until I know yours."  
  
"Your secret could have killed you, left untold," Cainwen said touchily. "If my secret was revealed it would mean my life."  
  
"Surely you exaggerate?" said Martin. "How could a red thing-gummy on your head mean your life?"  
  
"It just does. Now, I'm taking you to the Infirmary before you can pry into my pas- er life any more!" exclaimed Cainwen as she grabbed Martin and ran down the passage, pulling Martin along in her wake until she skidded to a halt in front of the Infirmary. Yanking the door open, Cainwen jerked Martin inside. Muttering a hurried excuse to the Loamhedge mouse on duty, she dragged Martin to the farthest bed. Hastily she shoved him into it and thrust a nightshirt into his hands.  
  
"Goodnight!" Cainwen said frostily before turning on her heel and storming out.  
  
Martin took off his tunic and slipped on the nightshirt, thinking about what he had just witnessed. Cainwen had something on her head that her life depended on hiding. And she got very touchy when asked about it. Martin decided that he would let her be for a while, but he would find out eventually. Right now, he thought to himself as he snuggled down against the clean bed sheets, sleep was the best thing. 


	5. 4 Revealed

Chapter 4- Revealed  
  
It had been a week since Cainwen and Martin had last spoken to each other. Cainwen had been avoiding Martin and everyone else. She was suspicious of every shadow and was rarely seen. She didn't eat with everyone, living instead on the sparse leftovers. No one had seen her in the dormitory since Martin was in the Infirmary. She had almost disappeared. When any one asked where she was, no one seemed to know. Martin had a feeling of her where- abouts, but since only she could get there, he doubted it would do little good to tell anyone.  
  
Martin sat at the breakfast table, eight days after his encounter with Cainwen the Warrioress, who had then reverted back to just Cainwen. He helped himself to a large helping of porridge and began to eat when he saw a fleeting glimpse of Cainwen heading towards the door. Martin hurriedly excused himself and followed her. When he reached the door however, Cainwen was nowhere to be found. Martin's keen eyes roved over the whole door and frame. All the locks were still locked, but Cainwen had vanished. Pinned to the doorframe was a small scrap of paper. Written on it in a hurried hand was the message, "Went out to forest. Will come back later. Cainwen"  
  
Martin sighed. He really had hoped to catch her before she got out. Now she was somewhere in Mossflower and probably wouldn't be back for hours. And he was supposed to go see to the tunnels today. She might return while he was out and disappear for who knew how long.  
  
Martin shrugged and went back to the table. It was no use trying to catch Cainwen. She was a Warrioress and if she didn't want to be seen, then nobeast would see her. It was a shame really, thought Martin. She's a wonderful warrior and camouflage expert. She would be invaluable to the war effort as another capable warrior and spy. But she is more stubborn than anything on this earth. She could hold out forever if she took it to mind.  
  
******************** Martin walked through Mossflower surrounded by Bella, Trubbs, his hares, and the half of the Corim army. They were headed to the rivers to see how the tunnels were going.  
  
Suddenly, they caught a fleeting glance of Tsarmina and two rats hurring towards the river. They swiftly ran to the tunnel sight to see if she was heading there. When they reached there, however, they discovered that Tsarmina had not been seen. Nor did she show up the entire time they were there.  
  
They returned to Brockhall in time for supper. As they arrived, Martin suddenly remembered that Cainwen had gone out to Mossflower, but he hadn't seen her. He conveyed his fears to Bella, who immediately called for a search of Brockhall. When no trace of Cainwen was found, Martin sat outside the door, waiting for her return until dark. Eventually he had to conclude that Cainwen was spending the night at her old cottage, and went inside to supper.  
  
However, something kept him at the table, not letting him go to bed. So he sat and waited for what ever he was waiting for to arrive. It was very late when he heard the outside door close softly and the bolts slide into place. He turned toward the entrance hall and watched as a hooded and cloaked figure can out of the shadows. It came unsteadily towards him, veering from side to side until it reached the table and sat down slowly. Martin tried to peer under the hood and see the face.  
  
"Cainwen?"  
  
"Yes, Martin?"  
  
"Where in the name of fur and cringe have you been? Don't you realize that the woods are full of vermin? Tsarina was spotted today and when you didn't show up for dinner we were all worried sick. You-"  
  
  
  
"They weren't all worried. Just you and Bella," Cainwen said softly.  
  
"What are you talking about, we all were worried! We- Cainwen, are you okay? Cainwen?"  
  
Cainwen rocked back and forth, and fell off the bench, senseless.  
  
"Cainwen!"  
  
Martin shoved back his chair and knelt down at Cainwen's side. He slowly turn her over, her head rolling limply, knocking off her hood and the cloak, which had only been tied on loosely, slipped off, revealing what she had been concealing.  
  
Martin gasped. Her face was raked and bloody. Her gown was torn, revealing deep gashes and wounds. Martin looked at his paw; it was stained crimson from Cainwen's blood. His tunic was also stained scarlet from holding her. Martin swept Cainwen into his arms and hurried towards the Infirmary. He laid Cainwen gently on an empty bed and shook awake the mouse on duty.  
  
"Quick, get some bandages. Cainwen's just returned and she's badly wounded!"  
  
The mousemaid leapt up, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She stared around dazed as Martin continued to shake her.  
  
"What 're ya talking about Martin? There was no battle today. Besides, everybeast knows Cainwen ran away this morning,"  
  
"She didn't run away and she's hurt! Can't you see that?"  
  
"Martin, what is going on here?"  
  
Martin spun around, releasing the mouse at the same time. He stared at Bella, who stood framed in the doorway, surrounded by all the creatures at Brockhall who had been awakened by his cries.  
  
"Bella, I was waiting for Cainwen and she came in, covered in a cloak and walking unsteadily. She sat down and I started to tell how worried we'd been when she fell over. Her cloak fell off, and this is what she looked like!"  
  
Martin walked over to the bed he had deposited Cainwen on and pulled back the cloak that covered her. A collective gasp arose from all within sight of her. Abbess Germaine rushed forward surrounded by three of her Loamhedge mice and started to attending to her wounds.  
  
"Poor thing, I wonder what happened to her?"  
  
"I don't know. I didn't get a chance to ask her," admitted Martin. "She blacked out too quickly. The last thing she said to me was that only Bella and I cared were she was. I told her it wasn't true but- Bella, what's the matter?"  
  
Bella shook her head sadly. "Martin, you haven't been in Mossflower very long. Cainwen is, well, see, um."  
  
"She's supposed to be dead!"  
  
Murmurs at the outcry prevailed until Trubbs restored order.  
  
"Steady on, chaps and chappesses. Explain yaself sah, who ever you are. Why is said creature supposed to have met her demise?"  
  
A hedgehog stepped out of the crowd. He stood with paws akimbo at the hare's ignorance.  
  
"Everybeast who's ever lived in Mossflower knows about the Curse of the Steel-eyes!"  
  
Whispers of agreement to the Hedgehog's cryptic words went around the room. Martin banged the wall, re-establishing silence.  
  
"Excuse my ignorance," he said irritably, "But what in the world is the Curse of the Steel-eyes?"  
  
Lady Amber stepped forward. She faced Martin with look of ashamedness.  
  
"Martin," she said softly," you haven't been in Mossflower long. Long before you came, when Verdauga was ruling, Cainwen's parents came to Mossflower. Her father was a Steel-eyes, a fearless warrior from far up north. His eyes, just as all of the Steel-eyes, had dusky blue gray eyes. When he got mad or his warrior blood rose, the blue left and turned to steel. The whites of his eyes turned flaming red, making them look like metal in forage. Her mother came from the far southwest; also a fearless warrior, with beautiful hazel eyes. They felt that the best way to protect Mossflower was to help Verdauga protect it. They became spies, and they kept more than four wars from starting. We rejected them, thinking that they were working with the enemy.  
  
"When Cainwen was born, Verdauga let her mother retire from service. As Cainwen grew, he seemed to grow a soft spot for her. Tsarmina hated the idea of a woodlander helping her father. She hated Cainwen more than anything. When Cainwen was barely three seasons old, her mother died, rest her soul. She really was a wonderful mouse, always helping. Anyway, when Verdauga heard about her death, he allowed Cainwen's father to retire to raise her, on the condition that he brought her to see him once a season. Not long after that, Verdauga got sick, and Tsarmina started to rule. Cainwen's father joined the rebellion, leaving Cainwen. He was massacred, and Cainwen mourned for two days, finally falling into a ditch on the far reaches of Mossflower. In past seasons, it had been filled with huge thorn bushes and falling in there meant sure death. We witnessed her falling in, Bella, Skipper and myself. She disappeared after that until she turned up early last spring. She's cursed, Martin. So we were a bit cold to her, we thought she might bring bad luck to us."  
  
Martin rolled his eyes and looked at the assembly with a fatherly look.  
  
"Bad luck?" he said incredibly," How could some beast who survived something like that be bad luck? Now, do any one know what happened to Cainwen today?!"  
  
A young shrew stepped forward.  
  
"Excuse me sir, but she saved our lives today."  
  
"Pardon?" said Skipper.  
  
"She saved our lives," repeated the shrew. " Me and some of my friends. We were fishing by the river today, hoping to have some fish for supper tonight, when that wildcat Tsarmina comes tearing through the woods. She got us backed up against the river and was about to start killing us when Miz Cainwen comes roaring out of the woods like a whirlwind, armed with a dirk and a dagger and starts attacking Tsarmina. She tells us to run, she had a score to settle. We ran and didn't see her since, until now."  
  
"Well, that explains a lot," said Lady Amber. "But I don't get one thing. What score would she have to settle?"  
  
"Maybe she's just plain a lunatic!"  
  
"Maybe because Tsarmina hated her?" ventured forth Columbine who had just started to bind a wound on Cainwen's right paw.  
  
"I don't think so, somehow," said Martin. "She seemed too sensible to want to do something like that for hate alone. Maybe there's just something we plainly don't know about her."  
  
Foremole scratched his nose. "Ho, Burr, oi do think that she do have more to hoide than the sea."  
  
Abbess Germaine wiped some blood off Cainwen's face with a damp cloth. "Poor thing, she must be mad to do something like that."  
  
Bella shook her head. "I don't believe so Abbess. She has a good, sensible head on her shoulders. But she is a warrioress and can be irrational when fighting her enemies. Just like her mother."  
  
Bella looked around at the assembly. "Come now, it was time we were all back in bed. I'll see everyone tomorrow morning. Good night."  
  
Slowly the creatures left the Infirmary for their beds. Martin went to the other end of the Infirmary and crawled under the covers. What a strange day, he thought. A sad, strange day. Good creatures had almost been lost to Tsarmina, and then there was Cainwen. What score did she have to settle with Tsarmina? And there was still the question of what was on her head that he had seen that night? Sleep slowly enveloped his senses and claimed the warrior mouse.  
  
*****************  
  
Martin was called sharply back to consciousness as a muffled shriek from the other end of the room, followed by a roar like that of a wounded wolf. He fell out of bed in a tangle of sheets. Tearing the sheets from himself in his hurry, he ran helter-skelter to Cainwen's bedside where the screams had come from. Abbess Germaine and her helpers stood with their paws over their mouth and staring horrified at Cainwen. One of her assistants pointed a quivering paw at Cainwen's head.  
  
Martin followed her paw and gasped. Now that he saw what he had glimpsed in the corridor that night, he wished that he had never seen it. Running from the base of her left ear to the beginning of her neck, there was a huge, red scar. It looked like a jagged river of blood. It glinted in the dim torchlight. Suddenly, as if awakened by some inner alarm, Cainwen's eyes shot open, and she struggled upright, pointing an accusing paw at Martin, and trying to cover her scar with the other.  
  
"You!" she growled, her eyes becoming like metal in a fire. "I should have known you'd do something like this! You swore to find out my secret! It will cost me my life and happiness now you, you, you." she began to breathe heavily; he eyes clouded and she fell back onto the pillows, a pained look etched on her face.  
  
Martin stared in dumb shock. So that's what she was hiding. But why did it cause her so much pain? Scars weren't supposed to hurt. Or was it her scar? Why would it cost her her life and happiness?  
  
Martin shook himself out of his stupor. He turned to Abbess Germaine.  
  
"I think you have done enough tonight. Go to bed all of you. I'll discuss this with Bella on the morrow."  
  
Germaine rose and beckoned her aides to follow. Martin watched them go. He turned back to Cainwen. Her face even in sleep, was troubled, pained and upset. He sighed. Nothing in Mossflower was clearly black and white. Every thing was grey and cloudy. 


End file.
